Last Christmas
by Keahi08
Summary: Austria doesn't have the faintest idea what to get Hungary for Christmas. Prussia does, because he's awesome. Not quite a songfic, Austria/Hungary and PruCan oneshot


He had a list. That was how serious this had become.

"What do you think," he murmured, almost shyly, looking up at the man in the seat in front of him. He felt himself break into a cold sweat at the apprehension.

"Hm?" mused Gilbert, looking up from the cats cradle in his hand to glance at Roderich. "Oh. Hell if I know. I'm not all sappy and uh... musically inclined like you. Pick one, play it."

Roderich felt himself blush. "T-That's the only reason I called you over here! And... and where did you get that? Never mind-- Just... just please help me. Please?"

Rolling his eyes and heaving a dramatic, aggravated sigh, Gilbert rose to his feet and took the list from Roderich's hand, inspecting it quickly. He made a face, looking a little disgruntled, before shoving the piece of paper back into the Austrian's hand. "I don't-- Why the hell are you asking me?" He hissed, returning back to his all-important piece of string. "You know her better than I do anyways. Besides, it's not she's gonna care or anything. She's gonna listen, swoon a little bit, then say something like, Oh, Roderich! That was wonderful! Just take me now!"

Roderich kept himself from fidgeting and averted the Prussian's gaze, blushing. "That was-- that was a terrible impersonation of Elizabeta," he said, under his breath.

Gilbert scoffed, holding the red piece of thread up to the light to continue his game of cats cradle with a look of seriousness and ferocity.

"Write her something," he suggested, for once acting nice. "She'd fucking die if you wrote her something."

"I... thought of that," confessed Roderich, embarrassed. "But I didn't have enough time. I don't have enough time."

"Hmph," came Gilbert, maneuvering his hands around as if that would help him. "Well then just fuckin' pick one, Roddy!"

The silver haired man paused, putting his hands down and looking at down at Roderich with what looked like dawning realization. "Actually, I don't think you should play any of those."

Roderich knew that Gilbert must've been channeling something amazing to actually be helping him, so he jumped and listened intently while the moment lasted. "Why? Tell me why you think that."

"Well." Gilbert put down the string, looking wistfully out the window. "It doesn't say anything special. Yeah, they're all pretty songs and shit but they don't make you feel special. And that's what she wants, trust me, to feel special and loved and all that girly shit like that. Why don't you take a love song and do... something... with it."

Gilbert shook his head violently, scowling. "Fuck, I'm channeling Canada again."

Roderich opened his mouth to try and inquire about the wisdom Gilbert had just shared with him, when he snapped it close and mulled over that last sentence.

"...Who's Canada?"

"Fuck you," Gilbert said, and left.

ol++++++++++++++++++++++++++/ol

"Roderich!"

Goddammit, he was so bad with words. Why did people think he played the piano? Because he couldn't ever say what he felt, that's why. He didn't know the Hungarian woman did it, effortlessly voicing whatever needed to be said in the calmest of ways. She could make you believe the sky was yellow and that the earth was on the back of a turtle. Roderich had no such gifts, sadly.

He shook his head lightly, coming out of his chance. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, Roderich, they're here." Even if she was just explaining the simple of things, the Austrian found himself tongue-tied at her words. No matter what melody he created, it would pale in comparison to the woman before him.

"Right," he said, stepping towards the door. Elizabeta had insisted on inviting Gilbert and his new roommate over, who neither of them had met. She had concocted ideas of a, erm, significant other, even though Roderich could not in a million years see the man with, well, anyone. But apparently, they were here.

"America?" Roderich lifted up an eyebrow, and almost inquired if Gilbert was, well, iwith/i America, but then he realized how terribly rude that would've been and pursed his lips together. "I mean, er, how nice to see you--"

"This is Canada, stupid," Hissed Gilbert, as if that had been a personal attack or something. Roderich could feel the Prussian's arm twitching to reach around Canada's shoulders.

"...Oh. This-- This is the Canada you were talking about, then." Roderich smiled lately at the blonde, who was smiling faintly at him, his cheeks graced with a tint of pink. "It's nice to finally meet you."

At this, the blonde boy blushed brighter and avoided Roderich's gaze, his smile growing. "Eheh... It's nice to meet you too. Gilbert's told me some--"

"Gilbert! Come in, come in, don't just stand in the doorway! And bring your adorable little friend!"

Elizabeta was standing in the archway to the living room, smile warm and arms outstretched and beckoning. She hurried over to her guests and took Canada's hand, pulling him inside. "You are just so cute! How did Gilbert find somebody like you when you just look so--"

"Eliza," Gilbert hissed, never having the patience to say her full name. "You're scarin' him, give him in some space, would you?"

"Aww," cooed Elizabeta, setting Canada down on the sofa. "That's so sweet...! How did you meet him?"

"I knew this would happen," sighed Gilbert, pinching the bridge of his nose and finally coming inside. "I knew she would do this. I knew she'd freak out and call us cute and want to know the whole damn story." He looked up, flashing a light smirk at the blonde of the sofa. "Don't let her intimidate you, kay Matt?"

"Matt," chirped Elizabeta. "Matt's your name?"

"It--It's Matthew," murmured the blonde, obviously flattered and smiling brighter and brighter by the minute. "It, erm, it's nice to meet you, Elizabeta."

Roderich smiled faintly at the two conversing, then looked over at Gilbert, who was making an obvious point not to look at them. He was holding two small packages in his hands, and seemed to be flushing faintly (Had Roderich inquired him, Gilbert's excuse would just be the cold from outside, so he decided to keep quiet).

"You even brought gifts," he asked, amusement apparent in his vice.

"Not my idea," Smirked Gilbert, turning to look at him. "But Matt had to be a good little boy and get you both something."

"We, uh," Came Matthew, looking over at Gilbert. "We brought gifts. Would you like them now?"

The Prussian in turn smirked, walking over to the couch and sitting comfortable between the Hungarian and Canadian. "Mmm, I think Eliza should feed us first," He teased, smiling devilishly.

Elizabeta scoffed. "Looks to me this boys been feeding you too much," She said, returning the smirk nicely. "You seem to have gained some weight, eh?"

At this, Gilbert leapt up. "I haven't-- I haven't gained a pound! Matt, have I gained weight?"

Matt giggled, slicking some of his wavy blonde hair out his face. "Maybe," he answered, smiling.

"Maybe?!"

ol++++++++++++++++++++++++++/ol

"This is for you, Roderich."

Roderich looked down to the little package Matt placed in his hands. "Oh," he mumbled. "Well, thank you."

Over food, Elizabeta and Gilbert were insulting and teasing each other left and right. Or well, Gilbert was trying to insult and tease her while still blushing furiously by her insults and teasing. Elizabeta actually remained unfazed. So Matt took the liberty to stand up and get the gifts.

"Gilbert told me you wanted to play something for Eliza and... I thought about it, how I could help you, and all. And I thought that this might help." Matt shrugged, looking to the side wistfully. "Hope you... both... like it, Roderich."

As usual, Roderich could not provide something adequate to say as thanks, so he just mumbled a very awkward, "Well, thank you," and opened the package.

Inside was a packet. A music packet actually. Flipping through the book lightly, he took the time to read over the notes on the pages, and began to smile faintly.

"I know this song," he mumbled, more to himself than the Canadian.

"It's 'Last Christmas'," said Matt, smiling. "It's one of my favorite 'Christmas-y' songs, and I thought if someone I loved played that for me, I'd love it. But, like I said, I hope you both like it."

Roderich looked up at the boy. He looked a little awkward, and wasn't meeting the Austrian's gaze, instead looking to the side shyly.

"Thank you, Matthew," Roderich said, warmly, his smile apparent in his eyes. "Thank you very much."

The Canadian smiled brighter in return, and blushed a darker shade of red, then promptly turned around. "Um, Gilbert?"

Gilbert and Elizabeta were poised over the box of cookies Matt had made the Hungarian for Christmas, and both of them had cookies stuffed in their mouths. They looked up at Matthew like two children who had just been caught by their mother. Gilbert blinked. "Yeah?"

Matt smiled, holding in laughter. "Let's head home now, OK?"

"Already," pouted Elizabeta, stepping up to the blonde. "B-But I hardly got to tell you how cute you are. Gilbert was too busy being a little kid."

"Says the woman with cookie crumbs all over her shirt," Gilbert mused, rolling his eyes.

She brushed his remark off, and bent down to kiss Matt's forehead lightly (at this, Gilbert jumped). "Well, thank you for the presents, sweetie," she said, warmly. "You get home and have a nice Christmas, OK?"

Gilbert sputtered incoherent nonsense for moment before latching onto Matt's shoulder. "Would you-- Would you stop treating him like a little kid?"

"Sorry," she replied, dryly. "I'm just so used to have to treat you like a little kid that I--"

"Gilbert, Let's go, alright?" Matt gushed, pulling on the Prussian's arm. "Well Roderich, Eliza, it was nice to meet you! Merry Christmas, bye!"

With that, the door slammed shut, and Roderich was left staring at it with a packet of music in his hand.

Elizabeta noticed the paper, and smiled devilishly. "What's that in your hand, Roderich?"

On cue, Roderich's tongue tied itself in a knot and he stopped himself from sputtering. "It's um, it's music," he replied, looking up at her and trying to will the red tint on his cheeks away.

"Really?" She smiled, bemused by his blush, and turned full to face him. "Would you... play?"

ol++++++++++++++++++++++++++/ol

Roderich took a deep breath and looked up to the sheet of music in front of him, his fingers poised over the keys. He glanced over at Elizabeta, who is sitting in a window sill, watching the moon from outside.

He stopped, drinking up the sight, before lightly pressing his fingers to the keys, as if testing the waters. He played lightly, getting her attention, before really entering the piece.

She turned her head, almost in thought. "I know this song," she mused, smiling wonderfully.

He glanced over at her, returning the smile. "Do you know the lyrics?"

At this, she blushed, a beautiful tint of red to her already breathtaking face. She slowly smiled, shyly, then looked back to the window in front of her, as if trying to find her voice.

_i"Once bitten, and twice shy. I keep my distance but you still catch my eye. Tell me baby, do you recognize me? Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me."/i_

And so, with newfound confidence, he played, she sang, and a light snow fell to the ground. His fingers glided over the keys effortlessly and her voice poured into the room and filled it with warmth. He couldn't help but smile as he read the music, and when she saw the smile, she began to laugh into her lyrics, adding to the beauty.

And when they finished, she pulled him up, insisted she dance with him, and he wondered where he got the courage to pull her close and kiss her soundly.


End file.
